


Flight of the Elements

by pentaink



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Appa is a big ol' dog, Gay Zuko (Avatar), M/M, Oblivious Sokka (Avatar), Past Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Past Sokka/Yue (Avatar), Zukka Centered, zukka - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26491630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pentaink/pseuds/pentaink
Summary: Get ready, fans, because it's a battle of the bands! On one stage, Flight of the Elements! On the other stage, Ozai's Angels! But what's this? The bassist for Ozai's Angels seems particularly distracted by a certain lead guitarist... Could a bitter rivalry result in the sweetest of love songs?
Relationships: Aang & Katara (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is,,,,, such a self-indulgent fic but i hope you guys enjoy!  
> it'd mean a lot to me if you checked out my other works, Silver and Gold, a post-canon modern AU, and Kids to You, a modern retelling of Book 3: Fire.  
> let me know what you like, don't like, or questions you have in the comments! :)

“Can I get a little more on my monitor?”

“You always want a little more on your monitor.”

“I can’t hear myself.”

“Maybe it’s ear damage from your monitor being too loud.”

Sokka chuckled as he plugged in his guitar. She was beautiful, a satin Lake Placid blue Stratocaster. He had named her Yue, and she could sing chords up to the moon. 

Katara and Toph were bickering, as usual, over the soundboard settings. Aang was in the corner eating, and Appa was begging for scraps. The light passing through the garage door grew dimmer as clouds passed over the sun, threatening rain. “Ladies! We’d better hurry up if we actually want to get practice in before Ms. Beifong’s garage floods again.”

Toph leaned over to the soundboard and turned the dial for her monitor all the way up again before finally walking back to her spot behind the drums. Katara hastily turned it down a few notches before plugging in her semi-acoustic and tuning up. Aang stood up and pulled a bass over his shoulders, adjusting the strap from the previous user. 

“Will it sound as good without keys?” Katara asked, watching Aang tune up, skeptical. 

“We’ll find another bassist soon, don’t worry.” Aang flipped on his amp.

The band started playing.

Sokka loved how everyone was really, truly in their element while playing. Katara’s voice rang out through the rain, and the guitars sang wonderfully in harmony to the beat of Toph’s drumming. Of course, Aang could probably do everything himself, but he was willing to help out with whoever couldn’t play that day. The absence of Suki would make things much more difficult, Sokka thought. 

The group played song after song until the rain started to puddle in the driveway. Katara helped pack up the equipment, talking about lyrics with Aang, who eagerly flipped open his notebook. Appa took this opportunity to run outside and splash around in the rain. Great, Sokka thought. Wet dog smell. Toph was sitting on the floor, going ham on her practice pad. 

“Whatcha playing there?” Sokka asked her as he coiled up his cable. 

“Sometimes I’m just hitting shit.” Toph tossed a drumstick in the air and caught it again, sticking the pair under her armpit as she stood up. “So, are you signing us up?”

At this, Katara and Aang stopped talking. Raindrops pattered as they all waited for Sokka’s response. 

“Guys, really? We don’t even have an official bassist,” Sokka responded, looking around at all of them. “No offense, Aang.”

“None taken.”

“It’s pay-to-enter, anyway, and there’s no guarantee we’ll even win.”

Toph scoffed. 

“What? Getting cocky?”

“My friend, money is no object,” Toph gestured at the equipment surrounding them. She was right, her parents were quite generous in that sense. “All we do is sit in a garage and play. Let’s get on the stage! If we’re gonna make noise, I want people to hear it!”

Katara and Aang nodded, excited. They turned to Sokka with wide eyes. 

“Katara and I have work, and these concerts go late…” Sokka was fumbling at this point. “Fine. I’ll sign us up.”

“Yes!” There were various noises of celebration and encouragement from the rest of the band. Katara was giving out high fives, and Aang did a little dance with Appa’s paws on his shoulders.   
“We’re going to be in a battle of the bands!”

“Don’t get too excited, we might not even win-” Sokka’s voice was largely ignored by the rest of the group.

“Come on, Sokka,” Aang teased. “You’ve been wanting this for a while.” He and the girls were huddled in a semi-circle.

Sokka groaned. “Not this again.”

“Sokka…”

“Fine, fine, okay.” Sokka put his arms around his friends, and they all hopped up and down until they couldn’t hold onto each other’s shoulders anymore. Toph almost crashed into the drum kit. As dumb as these rituals were, Sokka could feel an electricity between the group. He had to admit, playing in front of strangers would be exciting. Terrifying, yes, and kind of risky, but what did they have to lose? He, Katara, and Aang bid farewell to Toph and drove away through the downpour, gray clouds chasing them all the way to their house. 

sokkasm_: it says we need a team name. any ideas?  
arrowhead: I thought we were the Appa Squad? :0  
katara.wt: Sounds good to me :-)  
asdfghjkl: That name is shit  
katara.wt: RUDE  
asdfghjkl: maybe sokka can come up with a good one like his username  
asdfghjkl: less horny though  
sokkasm_: I TOLD YOU IT’S LIKE SARCASM BUT SOKKA  
sokkasm_: NOT A SEX JOKE  
asdfghjkl: ok sock orgasm  
sokkasm_: >:(  
arrowhead: toph doesn’t your mom check your phone  
asdfghjkl: oh shit hope not  
katara.wt: We still need a name!!  
sokkasm_: sokka and the tribe?  
arrowhead: flight of the elements?  
katara.wt: Ooh!  
asdfghjkl: poggers  
sokkasm_: sounds good  
katara.wt: Sweet :-)  
sokkasm_: looks like first battle is in a week  
arrowhead: cool cool! practice tomorrow?  
sokkasm_: we need it  
asdfghjkl: geez thanks for having faith in us  
sokkasm_: i’m being realistic  
asdfghjkl: then acknowledge that we’re actually good  
sokkasm_: no  
asdfghjkl: okay


	2. Chapter 2

Sokka pulled up his minivan behind the bar, parking it facing away from the building. He popped the trunk. 

This was it: their first Battle of the Bands. They had rehearsed every day after school for the past week, sometimes until midnight or whenever Toph’s mom kicked them out. None of the neighbors had complained, so maybe that was a good sign. Sokka started unloading the trunk; his hands shook as he picked up his guitar. 

“Here.” There was a soft hand on Sokka’s shoulder and Katara took over unpacking, handing instruments to the rest of the group and directing where they would put the instruments. They would be playing first; against a band called the Freedom Fighters. Sokka peeked out the door and saw them doing sound check onstage.

Their lead singer seemed to be a tall, athletic boy with hair too shaggy for his head. He kept flipping it out of his eyes. There were two other kids: one with decorative eyeliner, and one too short for his drum kit. 

Sokka felt his palms get sweaty. They looked good. Like- really good. They had matching outfits and shit. 

“Nervous?” Toph was practicing on her drum pad. Katara made her get one after she caused multiple headaches.

“Me? Nervous? Pfft. Never!” Sokka puffed out his chest. Fake it ‘til you make it, right?

“I can practically hear your heart rate from here, idiot.” Toph twirled her sticks and stuck them underneath her armpit. She reached for her cane as she stood up and punched Sokka on the arm in passing. “Like you said, it’s just a stupid Battle of the Bands.”

“A stupid battle of the bands…” Sokka paced back and forth. He could hear chatter as people trickled into the bar. Actual people watching their performance. 

“Pre-show jitters?”

Sokka twirled around to see that shaggy-haired kid from sound check. He was tall, taller than him, and chewing gum fairly loudly. Almost too loudly. He had his guitar strapped to his back like he was begging for someone to ask him to play. It was an acoustic with various election and political stickers on the back. One of those bands, Sokka thought.

“Everyone gets ‘em, huh?” Sokka chuckled, trying to be relatable.

“I’ve been performing since I was a kid. So no, not everyone.” He brushed his hair out of his eyes again. “But I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Sokka was over this conversation already. “Thanks.”

“The name’s Jet.” He blew and popped a bubble of gum. 

“Sokka.” The two shook hands and exchanged a killing glance. It was all in the eyebrows, Sokka thought. 

Jet was saying, “We’ll wipe the floor with you amateurs.”

Sokka had responded, “Not before we blast your asses off, hippie.”

There was a tight grip of hands, and Jet broke off. The eye contact remained until he was around the corner. Sokka collapsed into a couch and wiped his hands on his face.

Aang peeked his head around the corner. “Sokka! Come meet the other band!”

“Already have, thanks.”

“I said, come meet the other band,” Aang repeated through gritted teeth. There was another message in these eyebrows. 

Sokka leapt up and followed Aang out the door, beaten-up Vans slapping against the linoleum floor of the bar. He scanned the crowd as he and Aang navigated tables.

There was an old man who looked like he’d stuck his finger in a light socket, a goth girl who somehow snuck her lizard into the bar, a boy in a wheelchair with a questionable mustache, and various other characters. For a fleeting second, Sokka’s eyes caught the gaze of a boy with a buzz cut and a scar across his left eye.

Aang pulled on Sokka’s arm and gestured to the scene happening in front of them. Katara was waiting at the bar, presumably for a tray of waters, while none other than Jet was leaning on the counter, talking to her. 

“What do I do?” Aang looked up at Sokka with big eyes. 

“Right, I forgot. You’re new to this whole dating thing.” Sokka cracked his knuckles. He never gave up a chance to pass on his skills to a newcomer. “What you’re going to do, is go right up to him, and-”

There was a splash sound from the bar, and the boys’ heads whipped around to see a frustrated Katara, a drenched Jet, and an amused bartender. Katara walked up to Aang and grabbed his hand, balancing the tray in her other hand. The group rushed backstage.

“The NERVE of some people! I mean, I must have said the word ‘boyfriend’ ten times, what was he getting at? I swear-”

“Boyfriend?” Aang looked hesitant.

“We’ve been dating for three months, Aang.” Katara plopped down on the couch next to him. “Now I really want to give them hell!”

“We’re going on now,” Toph stated, matter-of-fact, “unless you want to stay here and get angry.”

Sokka started sweating even more. His lips were chapped, he hadn’t warmed up yet. This was going to crash and burn. All those people… 

“Come on, Sokka. I wanna see them fail.”

Sokka gritted his teeth and wiped his palms. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

The pick fit right between his fingers. The strings landed right on his calluses. This was just another rehearsal. The energy was electric between the band, connecting every player. Sokka could feel the click of Toph’s drumsticks, the whine of Katara’s microphone, and the rustle of Aang’s bass. 

A single low G reverberated through the crowd. 

Flight of the Elements began playing. 

This song had been one of Aang’s more recent creations. It was about winter, the moon, rain in a dark sky. Aang could paint portraits with lyrics, and this was Katara’s melody. Aang himself stepped in for vocals on this one. Singing might not be his strong suit, but the kid could carry a tune. Aang’s lyrics were more spoken, while Katara sang melodies into the ceiling and down through the floor. Toph added a light beat behind the harmony of instruments, and the whole house was swaying in an instant. Sokka straightened up. Maybe this could be pulled off after all. 

Here it was: the bridge. This had been written wonderfully: everything dropped out except for Aang’s voice, repeating a single lyric as Katara harmonized. Sokka felt his heart flutter and sink with the notes, as though floating over waves and falling under water. Slowly, the drums came in. Then the bass. And finally, the guitar. Sokka peered through the lights, rocking back and forth with the music. His eyes met those of that boy from earlier, jet-black hair illuminated in the colorful bar lights. 

Sokka missed a note. 

SokkamissedanoteSokkamissedanoteSokkamissedanote.

He looked to Toph. She didn’t seem to notice. Neither did Katara. Neither did Aang. Neither did the buzz-cut boy. Okay. Sokka fit his fingers back onto the strings. Too late. It was changing to the final chorus. He fumbled for that chord progression. The song got away from him as he made mistakes all the way through the end of the song. At least he got the last note, he thought. They had to have noticed now.

Aang waved goodbye to the crowd, and Katara blew kisses. Sokka wrapped up his cable and put his guitar back in its case in the back of the car, then collapsed on a backstage couch. The group exchanged hugs and high-fives, and then sat down as well. Katara was the first to notice Sokka’s face.

“It wasn’t that-”

“It was! It was, okay? I fucked up.”

“Sokka.”

“Now Jet’s gonna win with some song that’s a poorly veiled metaphor for the government! Is that what you want?”

“I didn’t even notice.” Aang smiled weakly.

“WHAT DIDN’T YOU NOTICE?”

“The-”

“The fuck-up.”

Katara scooted closer to her brother on the floor. “I missed some lyrics too, Sokka. We’ve all made mistakes performing.”

“No, Katara, you were perfect. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Toph poked Sokka with her cane. “Look, the least we can do is see the ‘Freedom Fighters’ fall on their asses. What’dya say?”

“I’d like that.”

“Get up, idiot!” Katara offered him her hand. 

The band took a table near the stage to watch. Sokka hunched over, trying to hide his face while also looking out for that boy with the buzzcut. Was he here for the other band?

“Ladies, gentlefolk, allow me to present the Freedom Fighters!”

Toph sneered. “Introducing his own band? This should be good.”

The song began with an intense drum solo that seemed to continue throughout the whole thing. Sokka was right: they were ridiculously good. There was technical fingerwork and drumming, but the only thing lackluster was the singing. Jet didn’t exactly have a voice for radio. There was a lot of shouting.

Sokka sank in his seat with every beat. This was powerful, they sure knew what they were doing. Maybe there were some parents that had forced them to sign up, or they really were just driven by sheer force of will. Either way, the Elements stood no chance. Sokka was about to leave when the song ended.

“Thank you, thank you. But before I go, this is for you, Katara.” Jet called from onstage. 

“This better be an apology.” Katara crossed her arms. 

Then, she was silenced by a splash of water in her face.

“What the FUCK, Jet?” Katara was fuming.

Aang was already getting napkins to help clean her up. “Okay, deep breaths, sweetie.”

“I’m done with deep breaths!”

Jet seemed smug. “Don’t mess with the Freedom Fighters.”

There was a slight uncomfortable unrest among the crowd. People were getting up to leave.

The host ran onstage. She was a tall, commanding woman, in uniform from bartending. “The Freedom Fighters have been disqualified for unruly behavior.” She turned and said something Sokka didn’t catch to Jet, who snapped back. Eventually, she just picked him up by the back of his shirt and carried him offstage. 

“Are you okay?” Everyone was concerned about Katara.

“You should be asking him after I punch his teeth so far into the back of his throat he-” 

“Okay, okay. I see that you’re angry. Emotions are important to process, and-” Aang was trying to calm Katara down before something broke.

“I say beat him up,” Toph suggested.

“Toph!” Aang hissed.

“Have it your way.” Toph took Sokka’s arm and went to go backstage, where they saw a frantic Jet trying to explain to the moderators that “it was just a metaphor for how society treats women as whole!”

“Hey, you’re the drummer, right?” Someone tugged on Toph’s sleeve. Sokka looked down and saw the tiny drummer from Jet’s band. He was wearing biker gloves and a band shirt that almost reached the bottom of his shorts.

“Sure am. What, you want a lesson?” Toph responded. She tucked her sticks under her armpit and stuffed her hands in her pockets. 

“I just wanted to say you were really good,” the kid responded.

“I know.” Toph smirked. “I’m Toph.” She stuck out a hand.

The kid shook it. “My friends call me The Duke,” he took out a piece of paper and handed it to her. “But you can call me anytime.” He winked awkwardly and strutted away, clearly satisfied with himself.

Sokka cringed with his entire body. “What just happened?”

Toph crumpled the paper. “I’m not entirely sure myself. Did the nimrod forget I can’t fucking read?”

In the main bar area, most of the groups had already left. Aang and Katara were talking to Aang’s “Uncle” Bumi, a family friend who turned out to be the crazy old guy from before. The only other table with people around it was occupied by a bubbly brunette, two girls with black hair, and buzz-cut kid. The two locked eyes again, and this time it was the other boy who broke it. He was talking to… Aang?

“I guess Jet can be a real tool sometimes, yeah.” Sokka approached his table, where he was discussing the events of the night with Aang. He looked stiff and uncomfortable, standing to the side while the girls talked about something else.

“Hey, Aang.” Sokka greeted his friend, and noticed a quick shift in the other boy’s foot stance.

“Sokka, hey! Zuko, this is Sokka. Sokka, Zuko.” Aang happily introduced the two. “Zuko’s in another band, Ozai’s Angels! They’re on the other side of the bracket.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sokka said, awkwardly. 

“Uh, thanks. I mean, you too,” Zuko said, more awkwardly. "My sister says we need to 'size up' the competition," he chuckled. He was wearing a red and black striped button-up, tucked into skinny black jeans. He had large spiked cuffs around his wrists, and Vans similar to Sokka’s. Zuko also had strikingly pale amber eyes. They could be much more intense if he wasn’t always avoiding Sokka’s gaze. He looked a lot more dressed-up than Sokka’s tank and beach shorts.

He was on the other side of the bracket. They might have to battle this guy. “Aang, I think Toph needs help with the cables.” Better not to get too acquainted. 

“Your playing was, uh... really cool,” Zuko interrupted Sokka’s departure. 

“Cool.”

“Yeah.” Zuko looked down at his feet. 

Sokka shifted uncomfortably. Why was his face hot? “I’ll see you… around?”

“Sure.” 

“Okay. Bye.” There was an awkward wave, and Sokka hurried back to pack up the instruments. What the hell was that? Where was Sokka, the small-talk and sarcasm guy?

What was going on with him today?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is: the first battle! Sokka seems a little distracted... nothing a bit of practice can't fix, right?
> 
> If you want to hear what Flight of the Elements played (Katara's Melody), I'll be making a Spotify playlist about ten songs long for each battle. Here's the link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5tsFr3enlgd5hjhfnJ82VB?si=GtRz4g-CTIKg1qwYTNyU9A
> 
> Thank you for reading, I really enjoy all of your comments! And if you want to, check out my other fics! I've got some good stuff planned, especially for Silver and Gold.


End file.
